


Never Finish Loving You

by ashavahishta



Series: Kidfic 'Verse [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Domestic, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, POV Alternating, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vacation, no like this is REALLY fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashavahishta/pseuds/ashavahishta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Because Louis could almost choke on it sometimes, the depth of his love for this man. It bubbles up in him, when Harry laughs so hard his mouth stretches ridiculously wide, or when he stands all sweet and pigeon-toed with his hands behind his back, when he dances like the dorky dad he is, when he wraps his big gangly limbs around Louis and holds him tight. Louis lives in a state of being constantly overwhelmed by his love for Harry Tomlinson, and he wouldn’t change a single thing about him.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or, Harry and Louis take a vacation with their kids. It's exactly as sappy as it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Finish Loving You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1Diamondinthesun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1Diamondinthesun/gifts).



It’s eleven pm on a Monday night, and Harry Tomlinson is locked in a battle of wills with a six year old.

“Alex, sit down.”

A cool, professional voice floats over them. “All passengers please take your seats, ensure that your tray table is in the correct position and your seatbelts are secured in preparation for take-off.”

Alex does not seem to be particularly concerned about the flight attendant’s polite request. He stays where he is, suspending himself above his seat with his arms. With his twinkling blue eyes and toothy, mischievous grin, he's almost a mirror image of his father at the same age. Harry has spent a large portion of his life indulging the whims of said father, but he tries not to let the resemblance affect his parenting skills. **  
**

 

“Alex,” he tries again, a note of warning creeping into his voice. The attendants are beginning to walk the length of the cabin, checking that everyone is seated. “Sit down. Please.”

 

Alex seems absolutely thrilled with the opportunity to test Harry’s patience. His grin widens the longer that Harry stares him down. He even begins to swing himself lightly back and forth in the air, and laughs in an evil sort of way when Harry narrows his eyes.

Harry usually has a high level of tolerance for these kind of games (you don’t live with Louis Tomlinson for sixteen years without developing one) - but it’s been a long day and his patience is wearing thin. He puts on what Louis has teasingly taken to calling his "Big Daddy" voice - deep and no-nonsense - and leans in to speak quietly to his son.

“Alexander Matthew Tomlinson, if your tiny bum is not on that seat in the next ten seconds you are not touching the XBox for the entire first week of this holiday.”

Alex sits. His arms cross over his chest and he sticks his bottom lip out at Harry, pouting for all he’s worth.

With a small chuckle, Harry leans over and carefully buckles him into his seatbelt. “Not a bad pout, love, but you’ve got nothing on your dad when he’s in a proper strop.”

Alex continues to stare moodily ahead. Harry shrugs, deciding to leave him to his sulking.

He’s settling back into his own seat when a familiar hand lands on his thigh. Louis’ thumb rubs in gentle circles, their special way of saying, ' _hi_ ,' and, ' _love you_.' Harry's body relaxes immediately, without him even having to think about it. It's like his body just knows Louis by now, knows that Louis' touch means home _._  He reaches down and slides their fingers together, sharing warmth and rubbing his thumb gently over Louis' wedding ring.

“All good?” Louis asks. He looks especially gorgeous tonight, with his soft hair tucked under a beanie and his cheeks rough with stubble. The black, narrow-framed glasses he always wears sit slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose. The whole look is one of Harry's favourites on Louis (although everything Louis does is Harry's favourite) - sleepy and soft and cuddly. It makes Harry think back to cuddling on tour buses and planes, back when Louis only wore his glasses if he was very tired and the cameras couldn't see him. Harry used to think of that Louis as his very own; the younger version of his husband often didn't reveal that side of himself to the public. Harry used to feel privileged that he was the only one to see Louis like that, natural and messy and lovely. These days, they have so much more freedom to be themselves. Harry's glad that the world gets to see Louis for who he really is.

 

Right now, who Louis is is a parent, and a very good one at that.Their gorgeous three year old sits curled against his chest, with Louis' hand rubbing small circles over her back in an effort to soothe her as she looks curiously around the unfamiliar plane. It's not her first flight ever, but it will be her longest. Harry and Louis are hoping she'll sleep through most of it, which is why Louis is holding her - she's quite attached to him lately, and tends to sleep better if he rocks her to sleep.

 

“All good,” Harry confirms. He reaches out to gently stroke Talia’s cheek. She blinks big, sleepy eyes at him and then turns her head to bury her face in Louis’ chest. She's sucking the corner of her 'blankie', an unbelievably soft scrap of fabric which is all that's left of the baby blanket Anne had given them when she was born. The small square is ragged and faded, but Talia can't live without it. Harry thinks about trying to coax the piece of fabric out of her mouth, but he'd much prefer not to face a tantrum this early in the flight. Instead he tickles her under the chin, making her giggle. "Are you getting sleepy, Tali?"

“Nearly there,” Louis murmurs. He presses a kiss to Talia’s curls and tilts his head to the left, where their other son is already immersed in the in-flight entertainment. "Ry's settled already."

Of all their kids, five year old Ryan is definitely the easiest to please. He's quiet and easy going, with a sweet smile and kind green eyes which make Louis and Harry buckle every time they even try to punish him. It's highly possible that at some point in this flight, Talia will have a tantrum about something (as any toddler in a confined space for eight hours is prone to do). Alex is likely to wander the cabin, striking up conversation with anyone he finds and trying to charm the flight attendants into letting him into the cockpit. At least Harry can count on the thought that Ryan will probably just watch a cartoon and go to sleep.

“Good,” Harry sighs in relief. He watches as Louis shifts Talia slightly in his grip, his smile soft when she snuffles into his shirt.

Harry thinks back over their chaotic day. He’d spent the morning negotiating with the kids (“Ryan, you need to take some of these toys out of your bag so I can fit some actual clothes in there.” “I don’t need clothes, I need my dinosaurs!”) and making sure he and Louis had everything (“Babe, did you pack the thing?” “Which thing?” “The thing thing!” “Oh yeah of course, it’s in the car.”)

Then, he’d written detailed instructions for their house-sitter (“We have two dogs - Molly is the bouncy labrador and Bruce is our beloved old cockapoo. He still loves a good cuddle and a gentle walk, but try not to over-exert those old bones.") Their London home is large, with nearly a dozen pets to care for on top of the actual house and grounds. Harry is house-proud, when he can afford to be (three kids and so many pets, plus a chronically messy husband, don't make it easy for him) - so he'd had to scout around a bit for a house-sitter he trusted. The person he ended up picking had flawless references and loved animals, so he's hoping the house will be just as he left it when they return.

Louis had been great, carrying everything to the car and entertaining the kids when they got bored of all the packing. It’s amazing, Harry muses, that they’ve been planning this trip for weeks and yet there was still so much to do at the last minute.

But now that it’s all done - keys handed over, baggage checked, kids settled - Harry can finally take a deep breath and actually feel excited about this trip. They’ve been making the annual migration to Los Angeles for many years, the kids’ school holidays in August making a perfect time to enjoy a bit of the American summer.

Some of Harry’s best memories of their family come from these trips. He closes his eyes, thinking of footy on the beach, teaching the kids how to build sandcastles and helping them wash saltwater out of their hair at the end of the day. He thinks about how the sun turns Louis’ skin a deep, warm gold, how he tastes after surfing, sharp and salty and all Harry’s. Los Angeles was special to them even before they had the kids. Back in the day, LA was a safe haven for them when band business became too much. They had a sweet little place on the beach which they could disappear to every few months, without fans or paps knowing where they were. Harry remembers it being one of the only places in the world he felt like he could really breathe.

Of course, that little beach house is no longer theirs; as soon as Ryan came along they realised it was time for an upgrade. Still, Harry is very much looking forward to a break in their big, sun-warmed summer home.  He closes his eyes, and waits for the plane to take off.

 

 

 

 

Their reception at LAX is quiet, at least compared to what it was ten years ago. One or two determined paps still take pictures as the family makes its way through the terminal, but nobody is shouting questions. Harry knows that this is because Louis has a reputation for not tolerating the harassment of his kids. Harry feels the same way, but he likes to think he’s a bit more diplomatic about it. Louis, on the other hand, has been known to threaten physical violence to paparazzi who get too close. His fierce protective instincts come out every time someone even gets close to the kids, or Harry for that matter. Harry has come to associate the warm hand on the small of his back with a feeling of safety, and knows their kids will do the same.

All the paps will get of them today are a few pictures of the Tomlinsons looking slightly worse for wear. They move slowly through the terminal, Harry and Louis each carrying one of their sons piggy-back style while Louis pushes Talia’s pram. The boys are so tired that they barely seem to notice the cameras on them, and Harry is grateful for that.

“Daddy?” Alex’s soft voice sounds from behind Harry’s ear.

“Yeah?”

“Are we there yet?”

Harry chuckles quietly. “Not just yet, little boss. We still need to drive home.”

“And I can go to sleep as soon as we get there?”

“You can go to sleep right now if you want, love. I won’t drop you.”

“If I’m asleep when we get home do I still have to brush my teeth?”

“Hmm,” Harry pretends to ponder this. Beside him, a knowing smirk is growing on Louis’ face. “Well I guess if you’re asleep, you can’t brush your teeth, can you?”

“Nope,” Alex confirms. He sounds very satisfied with himself.

“So you’ll have to brush them twice as long as soon as you wake up,” Louis pipes up. Alex deflates slightly on Harry’s back and Harry grins.

“Paaaaaa,” Alex whines.

Louis shrugs as best he can with Ryan attached to him. “You know the rules, boss. Teeth brushed before bed or else they’ll all fall out.”

“Will not.”

“Are you sure?” Harry questions. “How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“I see.” Louis hitches Ryan a little further up on his back. “I forgot, darling. Alex knows everything.”

If Harry had a free hand, he’d slap it dramatically to his forehead. “That’s right, he does!”

“Maybe we should ask his advice the next time we write a song,” Louis continues as they step out the front doors of the terminal and find the car waiting for them.

“Or make any decisions at the label,” Harry adds. He turns around and lets Alex slide off his back and into the car. “What do you reckon, Lex? Should we take a chance on that folk trio from Bristol? Your Pa thinks they’re too young.”

Alex crawls into the backseat and curls up with the hood of his onesie pulled over his forehead. He's pouting slightly, lower lip all pooched out and arms crossed over his chest. Grumpy as he is, it's absolutely adorable. 

“Dunno,” Alex replies, apparently giving up on the conversation.  Harry shares a smile with Louis. They both know that the only time their stubborn son concedes an argument is when he’s completely exhausted.

“But you know so much about teeth-brushing, I thought you knew everything about everything!” Louis says, feigning shock. He turns around to let Harry lift Ryan off his back and into the car, then bends to get Talia out of her pram. “And I didn’t say they were too young, I said they’re too green,” he mutters, eyes on Talia as he settles her into her carseat. “There’s a difference, Harold.”

“Action Front was green when we signed them, and who’s got an invite to the VMA’s next month?” Harry counters, thinking fondly of the pop-rock band Louis had scouted for their label two years ago.

“Action Front were all best friends. The Bristol group met a few months ago and they’re still arguing about what to call themselves,” Louis says. He finishes buckling Talia into her seat and smiles his crinkly smile at her. “And little folk trios who don’t get along with each other will go nowhere, will they, pumpkin? Hmm?”

Talia says, “Pa, I want strawberries and Teddy and bedtime.” Louis raises his eyebrows at Harry as though this settles the matter.

Harry reaches over and runs his fingers through Talia’s hair. “No strawberries tonight, but Teddy and bedtime really soon, T,” he promises. He and Louis finally climb into the car, still bickering good-naturedly.

Harry’s arguing just for the sake of it, really. He knows perfectly well that Louis is right about the Bristol group, the same way he was right about Action Front, the same way he was right about 5 Seconds of Summer all those years ago. Louis has a great knack for recognising talent, and his sharp business instincts have only improved over time. Although they’re always equals in their business ventures, when it comes to signing new acts Harry trusts Louis’ gut over anything else.

He’s talking to keep them awake, and because he’ll never get tired of Louis’ soft, raspy voice, even if he’s rambling about something as dull as profit margins and marketing strategy. Harry relaxes into his seat and just lets himself watch him. Louis’ hands move expressively while he talks, but he keeps his voice low like he doesn’t want to bother the kids when they’re so tired.  His soft hair keeps falling alluringly over his lovely eyes, and the morning sun is casting golden light over his cheekbones. He's gorgeous.

Eventually, Louis catches him staring. “And I really think that if - H, are you listening?”

Harry shakes his head slightly. He was busy enjoying the way Louis’ long eyelashes flutter every time he blinks. “Yep. Totally. Listening so hard.”

Louis arches an eyebrow, elegant as ever and blue eyes twinkling playfully. “Uh-huh.”

“And I completely agree with everything, darling. Top stuff.”

“Right. You weren’t falling asleep on me or anything.”

“I would never.”

“Hanging on to every word I was saying.”

“Always.”

“Because you love your dear husband so much.”

“That I do,” Harry can’t help but grin goofily at this point, and watches as Louis breaks into an answering smile. He leans over to cup Harry’s chin, tugging him toward him for a soft kiss.

“And I love you, even if you can’t stay awake long enough to have useless arguments with me.”

“Was just admiring you,” Harry murmurs, kissing him again. “Thinking about how much I’m looking forward to getting you home,” he turns his head slightly to kiss Louis’ neck and finishes the sentence in a whisper against his ear. “And in bed.”

Louis does that marvelous thing that always happens when he’s turned on and doesn’t want to show it - his face goes carefully blank and his body stills, and then he reaches to tug minutely at his shirt.  Harry smirks. He knows Louis’ tells better than anything, and he feels so smug that he can still produce this kind of reaction in him. Louis seems to give himself a moment before pushing himself away from Harry, although he does leave one hand resting warmly on his thigh.

“So,” he addresses the driver cheerfully as though there isn’t a flush crawling over his cheeks. “How long until we arrive?”

 

 

 

When Harry wakes the following morning, the house is silent.

This is very rare for their family. Most mornings, he’s woken up by either the dog wanting to be let out, the kids making noise in their rooms, or sometimes Louis rushing about getting ready for work. It feels like such a luxury for Harry to wake naturally, his body heavy and content with sleep when he blinks in the morning sunlight.

Louis is a warm and welcome weight where he’s curled against Harry’s chest, cheek resting over his heart. Harry smiles to himself. He runs his hand down Louis’ back where his skin is so soft, one of his favourite places to touch.

He lays there unmoving, happy in the warm space between sleeping and waking. Without meaning to, Harry starts humming the tune of a song he’s been working on the past few weeks. It’s a sweet little thing, intended for one of the up and coming pop princesses he sometimes writes for. Harry’s happy with it so far, but it’s still not quite right.

“Still missing something,” Louis’ raspy morning voice interrupts Harry’s humming. His roving hand moves up Louis’ back to touch his hair in greeting.

“Did you wake up just to criticise my song?” he asks.

“No,” Louis stretches languidly, his legs tangling further with Harry’s. He lifts his head and smiles sleepily at Harry. He looks a little pale and puffy-eyed, but still so pretty with his blue eyes and messy hair that Harry has to smile back. “I was already half-awake, criticising you was just a bonus.”

“Mean,” Harry pouts for a half a second then adds, “I can’t put my finger on what’s wrong with it.”

“You just need to tweak it a bit more, love.” Louis rests his cheek back over Harry’s chest and starts tracing his bird tattoo with a fingertip. “Besides, work talk is forbidden in this bed. You’re breaking the rules.”

“Sorry,” Harry murmurs. He remembers the first time he and Louis had come up with the rule: late 2012, when all they could talk about was PR stunts and fake relationships. It got so bad that they needed a safe place to just be them, just HarryandLouis without any of the drama that often surrounded the band.

The rule has served them well over the years, reminding them that no matter what is going on in the outside world, they always have each other to return to. In bed, Harry can always drop whatever pressure holding him down. And this morning, even though the song is a tiny problem, he’s glad to set it aside and focus on his husband instead.

Louis appears to be reminiscing as well as his finger continues tracing a path over Harry’s bird tattoo. “You know we made that rule a couple of weeks after you got these,” he comments. His lips curve into a bittersweet smile. “Felt like the end of the world back then.”

Harry remembers. Late 2012 is still a dark spot in his memory all these years later. If he closes his eyes he can feel the wind on him in Central Park with her, can feel Louis’ tears against his neck, the bone-deep sadness and desperation which made its home inside them for those few months.

“Sometimes I still can’t believe we made it,” Harry confesses quietly. He slips his fingers into Louis’ hair, stroking gently as he continues. “They put us through so much, I used to think it would never end.”

“I know,” Louis scoots further up the bed and snuggles in as close as he can with his face tucked into Harry’s neck. He presses a comforting kiss to his skin and curves his hand around Harry’s side. “We always promised each other we’d get through but sometimes…” he sighs, and Harry knows he’s remembering the worst of it; the screaming fights, the tears, the constant pressure from everyone around them.

It’s not something he likes to think about. Not now that they’re so happy, now that they’ve lived through the worst of it and found light at the other side. He doesn’t want Louis reliving bad memories when they have so much to be thankful for in the here and now. So he changes the subject.

“I don’t think I’ll ever regret these though,” he comments, indicating his bird tattoos.

He can feel the mood in the room lift immediately as Louis moves away from his neck and leans down to kiss the birds instead. He’s smiling.

“No,” he agrees. “Do you remember how everyone tried to talk us out of them?” Louis sits up to straddle Harry’s chest, his hands spreading over the birds again. He looks so fond - he’s always loved the birds the most out of Harry’s tatts.

“Yep,” Harry grins and curves his hands around Louis’ hips. He remembers the cautious, polite tones of his friends and family when they said things like, ' _You know those are permanent, right?'_ , and, _'I know you love Louis to pieces but….'_ , and his favourite, _'Are you sure you’re going to want those on your body for the rest of your life?'_

He’d been so damn young. He hadn’t felt it at the time, but now Harry looks back and thinks, _god, I was just a baby_. But he remembers how he felt then because he still feels it now: the absolute certainty that he and Louis were meant to be together, forever.

And, well. It hasn’t been forever just yet, but sixteen years is a good start.

The birds feel old compared to some of their newer tatts. In Harry’s mind, he divides them into Before and After. Their Before tattoos were what they got to show their love when they couldn’t talk about it. Before goes all up Harry’s left arm and Louis’ right; the ‘oops’ to his ‘hi’,’ the compass to his ship, the rope to his anchor and the arrow to his heart.

After (after they came out, after the lying stopped, when they could finally take control of their lives) covers Harry’s right arm and Louis’ left, as well as various other parts of their bodies. These arms mirror each other almost perfectly, as they had always planned.

They both have a list of dates (their wedding, their childrens' birthdays) on the inside of their arms above the elbow. They both have each others' names, in plain script on their wrists. Harry has ' _fireproof_  ' in little swirling letters on his bicep, and Louis has music notes on his forearm, from something Harry wrote him for his thirtieth birthday.

Their arms are covered in other smaller pieces; tributes to their kids, memories, song lyrics, symbols that mean 'forever' and 'yours' _,_ symbols of fate and destiny like the red strings that wrap around their pinky fingers. On their thighs is what could be mistaken for a black smudge, but it's actually one of the matching tattoos that few people know about; each others' thumbprints, an homage to the way they used to press silent ' _I love you'_ s into the skin because they couldn't say it aloud.

Harry’s current favourite tattoo is the one Louis had done a few weeks ago in celebration of their sixteenth anniversary. It’s an angel, big and gothic and majestic, taking up most of his left side with wings curving up under the ‘It Is What It Is’ on his collarbones. _'Because you’re my angel'_ , Louis had said, completely unapologetic as he’d peeled back the bandages to show Harry the tattoo. Harry hasn’t been able to stop kissing over the inked skin for weeks, and he can’t wait to get a pair of wings over his shoulder blades to match.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes now, eyes still roving over Louis’ inked skin. His thumbs rub over the cluster of stars which adorn each of Louis’ curvy little hips. Louis’ answering smile is like sunshine and makes Harry squeeze his hips, urging him down within kissing distance.

“Love you,” Louis whispers against his mouth. Their kiss is gentle and slow, lazy like the morning feels. Harry’s hands travel from Louis’ hips to wrap around his waist and hold him close while their lips move together. Louis’ skin is warm from the sun and Harry never wants to stop touching him.

So of course (of _course_ ) one of their children chooses that moment to cause a loud noise somewhere downstairs.

Louis pulls away and buries his face in Harry’s chest with a groan. “Whyyyyyyyyy.”

Chuckling, Harry kisses his hair and moves to untangle their limbs. “C’mon, they’ve probably broken something.”

“I wanted to blow you,” Louis whines as they both tug sweatpants up over their hips. He flicks his hair out of his eyes and slips his glasses on, while Harry quickly ties his curls back with a scarf. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had your cock in my mouth, Harold? _Days_.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten you out, Lewis?” Harry counters with a pout. “ _Weeks_.”

Louis makes a frustrated whining noise but opens their bedroom door all the same. “Life is so hard.”

Harry opens his mouth but, (without even looking), Louis cuts him off with a hand raised in the air. “If I hear one joke about how 'hard' it is…”

Harry closes his mouth.

They troop downstairs together. Neither of them are surprised to find Alex on the floor in the living room, sitting dejectedly near the wreckage of a broken glass vase.

“Alex,” Harry sighs. “Are you hurt?”

Alex shakes his head. “I was just trying to hook up the Xbox!” he explains, pointing to where he’s moved the box and the vase to look for the cables in the back. “It’s not my fault that ugly thing was in the way.”

“That ‘ugly thing’ was a wedding gift from Chris Martin,” Harry replies with a frown. Alex’s expression shows he’s far too young to know who Chris Martin is, but at Louis’ stern eyebrow raise he drops his eyes and mutters a, “Sorry, Dad.”

Harry accepts the apology pretty easily - as much as he loves Chris, the vase actually was quite ugly. Besides, this is nothing to the time Alex smeared flour on every surface in their home, or used his crayons to scrawl 'art' onto the living room walls. No, a broken vase is positively tame.

Harry holds out his arms to Alex. “C’mere, bub. I don’t want you stepping on any of that glass.”

Alex stands and lets Harry pluck him carefully out of the mess, wrapping his skinny legs around Harry's waist. He pouts into Harry's shoulder and says, “It’s not really my fault, you know. If you two didn’t sleep in so much I wouldn’t have to get up all by myself.”

Louis’ eyebrows rise again at the cheeky remark and Harry gives him a look over Alex’s head which clearly says,  _'he gets that from you._ '

Louis shrugs. He loves the defiant, mischievous parts of Alex’s personality just as much as Harry does, even though it makes their lives about twenty times harder. Alex is a great kid, really - clever, energetic, funny as all hell and absolutely fearless. He's a born leader, but he's got a wild streak in him which makes Harry sure he's going to have a very adventurous life - just like his fathers.

“It’s our holiday too, you know, he remarks mildly. "We are allowed to sleep in some days." He can hear noises upstairs so he sets Alex down. “That’d be your brother and sister waking up. C’mon, you can help with breakfast.”

Alex’s eyes widen. “Are we having pancakes? Can we have a pancake party? We’re having a pancake party! _RY, WAKE UP, WE’RE HAVING A PANCAKE PARTY._ ”

“I -”

Alex is sprinting up the stairs before Harry can blink. “I guess we’re having a pancake party?” he says with a laugh. Louis is grinning as he gingerly picks up the largest glass shards.

“I guess we are."

 

 

 

 

A ‘pancake party’ just means that the kids get to make a huge mess of the kitchen while making as many weird and wonderful pancakes as they can. Harry keeps guard at the stove, making sure no little fingers get burned as he cooks up pancake after pancake. Louis sits at the table with the kids and helps them assemble the bizarre concoctions they’ll call their breakfast.

“Alright,” Louis booms in his big announcer voice. “Our champion, six year old Alexander Tomlinson, has produced a strawberry, bacon and peanut butter pancake and will attempt to eat it momentarily. His competitor, at five years old, is Ryan Tomlinson. Ryan, you’re attacking a cheese, nutella and lemon pancake today. How are you feeling?”

“Good!” Ryan chirps. He loves to help Harry cook so he’d been the one to add all the ingredients and stir the batter. About half of it is in his hair, but Harry usually expects that when they cook together.

“And we’re just waiting on Chef Harold to provide the final, slightly smaller pancake for our youngest competitor today. Miss Tali, three years old, what will you be having?”

Talia, who is currently being bounced on Louis’ knee, grabs the three items nearest to her plate - cream, mushrooms and a banana. “All this, please Pa.”

Harry suppresses a laugh as he turns back to the pan and begins heaping cooked pancakes onto a plate. He can hear Louis trying to reason with Talia (“Okay baby, how about lots of cream and banana and only a little bit of mushroom, hmm?”) with little success. The boys pile their plates with their own creations, daring each other to add weirder and weirder things to them.

“Alright,” he eventually has to step in because Alex is trying to talk Ryan into putting toothpaste on his breakfast. “It’s time. Judge?”

Louis straightens importantly in his seat. “Okay family, you know the rules: points off if you don’t finish the whole meal. Points off if you make a mess. Extra points given depending on weirdness of ingredients. _Lots_ of points off if you make yourself sick and Daddy has to clean it up. No points given for speed so slow down and eat properly. Super bonus points for helping Dad and I clean the kitchen afterward. Your prize is an extra half hour of story time before bed. Everyone understand? Okay, GO!”

They tuck in, the boys with easily the most gusto as they power through their pancakes. Harry takes his time on his relatively tame mango-mint-spinach creation, while Louis helps Talia to cut and eat hers. Harry keeps an eye on the boys to make sure they’re not goading each other into eating too fast (they’re both very competitive and love winning anything against each other). When Louis is finished helping Talia eat, he polishes off a sickeningly sweet pancake with ice cream and all the flavoured syrups they own.

After breakfast they all clean the kitchen together, which is quite an experience because the boys keep trying to one-up each other on who can clean the most.

“We should really make them compete against each other for chores more often,” Harry whispers.

Louis laughs. He’s leaning against the bench opposite Harry as they watch their sons run around the kitchen together. Still shirtless, but with his glasses on and Talia perched on one tattooed hip, Louis makes an altogether lovely sight.

So lovely, in fact, that Harry has to whip out his phone and take a picture of Louis’ crinkly-eyed smile and Talia’s toothy grin as she waves at the camera. The sun pouring in from the kitchen window lights Louis up from behind, making him glow.

“ _How lucky am I to see these smiles every day?_ ” he tweets with the picture. “ _Love my hubs and bubs x”_

“Sap,” Louis comments, but he leans up to peck Harry on the lips anyway.

“Papa, who wins?!” Alex demands. He and Ryan are standing in the middle of the kitchen clutching their sponges. They’re both filthy, but the kitchen looks amazing.

“Hmm,” Louis sets Talia on her feet and they walk the kitchen together, studiously inspecting the boys’ work.

“Okay, the winner is………..Dad!”

Harry bursts into laughter as the boys erupt into protests. “Dad _always_ wins!” and, “You pick him every time, it’s not fair!”

“He made the pancakes,” Louis explains to the furious boys. “And he ate mango and spinach, which is absolutely disgusting.”

Alex stomps his foot. “We cleaned!”

“Yes, and we clean every day, where’s our prize?” Louis raises his eyebrows at Alex. He has Talia balanced on his hip again, her sticky little fingers tracing curiously over the lines of his new angel tattoo.

“You got us,” Ryan says with a big, sweet smile, and Harry feels himself melt.

“He’s got us there, babe.”

“I know,” Louis grumbles, leaning into Harry’s side. “We gotta stop raising such cute kids.”

Ryan and Alex put on their best smiles, knowing just how to get on Louis’ good side when he’s feeling sappy. Eventually he raises his hands in defeat. “Alright! You all win. Tonight you each get an extra half hour. Now let’s go get dressed, we’re going to the beach.”

The kids cheer and scuttle off, Ryan leading Talia by the hand.

 

“You’re such a softy,” Harry teases, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist and pulling him close.

“I know,” Louis moans. He reaches up to fiddle with Harry’s headscarf, carefully tucking in curls which came loose while he was cooking. “They give me the eyes and the little crooked smiles and I just go all gooey.”

“To be fair, they’re really really cute,” Harry responds fondly. “Also, you’ve always been like this over kids. It’s just like, fifty times worse because they’re our kids.”

“Yeah, with your eyes and curls and dimples.” Louis says, sounding put-upon. “Spent sixteen years building up an immunity to you and now I have the miniature versions to deal with.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, somewhat nonsensically. Louis’ fingers are still stroking through his curls, which always makes him feel dopey and warm.

Chuckling, Louis presses a kiss to his mouth. “Let’s tire them all out today, okay? I have plans for you tonight.”

Harry’s half-lidded eyes snap open. “Plans?”

“Yep,” Louis guides Harry’s hands down from his waist to his arse and lets Harry get a good grope in before he pushes himself away. “Big plans. C’mon, beach.”

Harry follows, and fervently hopes that the day passes quickly.

 

 

 

Their day at the beach goes exactly as Louis had hoped. It’s bright and warm, with the sun beaming down at them the whole time. He spends the morning helping the kids bury Harry in the sand, with Talia providing decorations in the form of the many shells and pebbles she finds. Later, Harry watches from under the umbrella with Talia in his lap while Louis and the boys play football in the sand.

The afternoon is wonderfully peaceful. Louis puts Talia in her room to nap and everyone else goes into the large backyard to enjoy the sun for a few more hours. Alex and Ryan drag as many of their dinosaurs, action figures and dolls that they can carry outside and play together in the grass, still in their swimsuits.

Meanwhile, Harry and Louis spend a lazy few hours lounging in the hammock that hangs on their deck. It’s the perfect spot for them to watch the boys but still get space for themselves. Louis fits himself against Harry with his back to Harry’s chest, Harry’s arms loose around his waist. It’s always been Louis’ very favourite way to cuddle; he loves being able to feel Harry big and solid around him, loves Harry’s big hands spread over his stomach and the way his thumbs stroke over Louis’ skin.

They spend the afternoon tangled together like that, talking quietly and making each other laugh. Louis thinks for the millionth time how lucky he is to have this, how lucky he is that he got to marry his best friend, the person who will always make him smile. He always wants to hear Harry talk, wants to hear how he sees the world, all his little thoughts and his jokes and the slow, deliberate way he talks. Louis will always be fascinated by Harry’s mind and his heart, will always be charmed by his sweetness and his gentle spirit.

He ends up taking a picture of the two of them with their cheeks smushed together, beaming at the camera, and tweets, ' _summer cuddles with my babe :) xxxxxx love you @harry_tomlinson.'_

Harry tweets back, ' _love you moooooore xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'_ because they’re That Couple, and Louis wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

 

 

After a very nice Harry-cooked barbecue for dinner that night, the family decide to do some star-gazing in the yard. Louis drags an old blanket outside for them to all sit on. It’s a clear, warm night, perfect for lying in the grass with a light breeze wafting over their skin.

Although there’s definitely less stars to see in the Los Angeles sky than there are back home, there’s enough to keep the kids entertained. Alex and Ryan lay on either side of Harry, little Talia tucked in under Louis’ arm.

“Pretty cool, hey kids?” Harry breathes.

“I’m gonna become an astronaut and fly to all the other stars and planets and shoot aliens,” Alex announces, which makes Louis laugh.

“You know it’d take a long time to go to all those places and find all those aliens in your spaceship.”

****“Nah, I’d just take a super fast one,” Alex explains confidently.

 

“Do aliens all live on different stars?” Ryan asks curiously around the thumb in his mouth. “How do they have play-dates?”

“Well they just fly over to see each other,” Harry replies. “In their own personal spaceships.”

“Do aliens have daddies and papas and brudders?” Talia whispers to Louis. He smiles and smooths his hand over her soft curls.

“Yeah bug, of course. Everyone’s got a family.”

“But ours is the best one,” Alex declares. Pride and affection bubble up in Louis' chest, and he's pleased to see Harry tug their son close to drop a kiss to his hair.

“Ours is pretty great," he agrees softly.

 

Lying in the dark with Harry and their kids, Louis can’t help thinking, again, of how lucky he is. He thinks back on all the shit they used to deal with - the tours, the terrible schedules, the complete lack of freedom to say or do anything they wanted. He thinks back on the massive sacrifices they made.

And he knows with every fiber of his being that it was all worth it.

He has three beautiful, unique children - brave, clever Alex, sweet and genuine Ryan, and little Talia who’s so excited about finding her place in the world.

He has Harry. He has Harry, and that means everything. He’s had the love of his life all these years, through the best times and definitely through the very worst. No matter what, he always has Harry’s support, his comfort, his laughter, his love. He knows exactly how amazing it is that they found each other, and he’s never let himself forget it.

They lived through so much, gave up so much for this. But it’s all worth it, to have Harry and their kids cuddled up with him to watch the stars.

Louis is feeling very sappy indeed, sitting there staring at Harry with a dopey smile on his face. Harry hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whispering the secrets of the universe to their boys. Then he leans back to point at something, causing his shirt to ride up and his bare, deliciously inked stomach to come into view.

A little zing of heat travels through Louis’ body at the sight, and he suddenly remembers his promise to Harry of ‘plans’ for tonight. He keeps his eyes locked on Harry’s bare skin and starts thinking about exactly what he’d like to do to his husband later.

He’s not sure how long he sits there staring and plotting the unspeakable things he’d like to do to Harry’s body, but Harry eventually catches on. He turns and catches Louis’ eye, then flushes a lovely pink colour when he notices the heat in Louis’ gaze.

Louis does his best to project how badly he wants to just _wreck_ Harry, get him shaking and sobbing and gorgeous. It doesn’t take very long of his staring for Harry to start getting restless, squirming a little and biting his lip every time he glances over at Louis.

Finally, Harry gives in. “Okay, little monkeys. Time for bed.”

The boys whine a little but Louis can tell they’re still jet-lagged, because they don’t put up their usual fight when he and Harry get them into pyjamas. Harry settles in with the boys for the promised extra story time, while Louis takes Tali to her room for a long cuddle and a couple of lullabies.

 

She's so beautiful as she falls asleep in his arms, blankie clutched in her hands, long eyelashes casting shadows over her chubby little cheeks. Louis finishes crooning the last song and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. It's one of those moments where he's so full of love for his child that he doesn't quite know how to process it. It's like warmth is spread all over his body, tingling in his fingertips. It reminds him of the first time he held Alex - the knowledge that he would never love anything more than he loved the tiny, helpless creature in his arms. He misses when the kids were babies. Talia is a toddler now, and she's perfect; but Louis misses the warmth of a baby sleeping against his chest, misses the powdery smell of a baby's hair and how tiny they'd all looked in Harry's huge, capable hands.

He and Harry have been talking the past few months about having another baby. It's a big decision, but they never planned on stopping at three. Louis thinks they'll try to get some projects finished up at the label, release the songs they're writing, and then maybe settle back with a new bundle of joy sometime next year.

 

He simply cannot wait.

 

 

With Talia sound asleep, Louis wanders back to the boys’ room to say goodnight and finds his husband and sons in an earnest discussion about aliens.

“Nah-uh, they’re green and they have eighteen fingers and they eat people!” Alex is saying to a wide-eyed Ryan. "And their favourite food is five year old boys just like you!"

“Is not!” Ryan retorts, and looks up as his father enters the room. “Right, Pa?”

“Alex, you’re going to give your brother nightmares.” Louis warns. He sits down on the side of Ryan’s bed and smooths his fringe back from his forehead. “Sweetheart, aliens don’t eat people. And they live very, very far away, remember? In the stars, not down here.”

“Are you sure?” Ryan asks.

“So sure. Right, Dad?”

“That’s right,” Harry agrees, joining Louis on Ryan’s bed. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“They totally eat people!” Alex insists from his own bed.

“Alex,” Harry says. “Enough.”

Arms crossing over his chest, their eldest slumps back in his bed. “I’m just saying.”

“Well we can talk more about aliens tomorrow, okay? But it’s definitely bedtime.”

Louis leans down to give Ryan a tight hug and a kiss. “I love you, baby. Don’t worry about anything.”

“Okay, Pa,” Ryan hugs him back, tucking his face into Louis’ neck. “Love you too.”

With Alex, Louis gives him a quick warning before he gets his cuddle. “Don’t scare your little brother, okay, boss? He looks up to you.”

Alex sighs loudly, like Louis is asking him a huge favour. “Okaaaaaaay.”

“I love you,” Louis chirps, and smacks a loud kiss to Alex’s forehead.

With a small smile, Alex pulls his teddy closer and lays down. “I love you too.”

 

Louis waits for Harry to say goodnight, then puts his hand on the small of his back and leads him out of the room.

 

 

 

 

Later, when they’re sure everyone is fast asleep, Louis finally gets his hands on Harry’s skin.

****“Hi,” he whispers as he presses Harry back into their bed. The night is still very warm, and Harry’s skin is hot under his hands. He traces his fingertips lightly over Harry’s chest, following the pattern of his tattoos.

“Hi,” Harry smiles up at him. “I thought you had plans.”

“Oh, I do,” Louis hooks his fingers in Harry’s briefs and starts to tug them teasingly down his long, beautiful legs. “I absolutely do.”

When they’re both naked, Louis crawls back up Harry’s body and captures his mouth in a slow, sensuous kiss. He keeps their bodies entwined, wanting to feel every inch of Harry’s soft skin against his own as he runs his hands over his body.

“Love kissing you,” he murmurs against Harry’s mouth. Louis doesn’t really have anyone else to compare to, but Harry’s a fantastic kisser. His lips are so soft and he kisses the way he talks, slow and measured but so sensual. His big hands stroke over Louis’ skin and leave trails of heat everywhere they touch.

He’s been kissing Harry for sixteen years, but Louis still feels fluttery and warm from each press of Harry’s lips against his own. He still smiles against Harry’s mouth and runs his fingers through Harry’s hair to marvel at how soft and lovely it feels. It still makes him feel warm and safe to be locked in Harry’s embrace, eyes closed, lost in his kiss.

He takes his time with Harry tonight. He keeps kissing him, lets their cocks rub together where they’re trapped between their stomachs. He loves being able to feel how hard and hot Harry is for him, how his cock twitches when Louis’ thumbs rub over his nipples.

“Lou, please -” Harry says finally. “C’mon babe, I need…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Louis asks, petting Harry’s curls. He’s beautifully flushed, eyes big and glazed. Right where Louis wants him.

“Can you fuck me?”  Harry’s legs spread as if of their own accord and his fingers dig into Louis’ shoulders. “Please?”

God, he’s so lovely, the way he asks for it like Louis has any power at all to deny him. He leans down to kiss Harry fiercely, gripping his hair and pressing his tongue deep into his mouth until Harry is gasping.

“Want you to finger yourself open for me, darling,” Louis hands Harry a bottle of lube as he speaks and runs his hands soothingly up Harry’s thighs. “Want to watch your beautiful fingers getting you nice and stretched, wanna see you ride them.”

Harry nods furiously and starts coating his fingers almost before Louis is finished talking. His knees fall open and Louis sits back, watching greedily as Harry’s fingers slide teasingly against his own hole.

As much as he loves fingering Harry, there’s something unmissable about watching him doing it to himself. He’s so completely wanton about it, so open to his own pleasure as he fits one, then two fingers inside himself. Harry’s eyes close and his mouth opens on hot little pants of air while his fingers press in deeper and deeper. His body arches, muscles rippling in the low light.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes. Harry is a work of art. His broad chest rises and falls with his fast, desperate breaths as he pushes down against his fingers, and his thick cock is hard against his stomach. He’s glimmering with sweat and gasping and so beautiful Louis can barely speak.

“You’re perfect,” he manages to say. He leans over his husband and draws him into a wet, searing kiss while Harry continues to fuck himself on his fingers. “You’re gorgeous, Harry, I love you so much.”

“Love you too, love you, _oh_ ,” Harry squeaks when Louis reaches down and slips one finger in beside Harry’s, so they’re fucking into him together. Harry is wet and warm and so fucking tight. Louis bites his lip, trying not to focus on how hard his own cock is against his thigh. Instead he presses deep into Harry’s body, fingers tight against Harry’s, and curls until he finds what he’s looking for.

“F-fuck!” Harry arches again and starts positively writhing on their fingers. “Louis, baby, please, fuck me, I need you, Lou -”

“Shh sweetheart, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Louis kisses all over Harry’s flushed face, murmuring sweet things into his ear. He lets their fingers slip from Harry’s body and sits back to lube up his cock instead.

When he’s ready, he has to sit back for a moment and just admire the man he’s lucky enough to call his husband. Harry is spread out, long legs open, hips canted up, his big cock hard in his hand as he languidly strokes himself and waits for Louis to fuck him. He’s giving Louis this beautiful, loving little smile which makes Louis want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until all Harry knows is how much Louis loves him.

Because Louis could almost choke on it sometimes, the depth of his love for this man. It bubbles up in him, when Harry laughs so hard his mouth stretches ridiculously wide, or when he stands all sweet and pigeon-toed with his hands behind his back, when he dances like the dorky dad he is, when he wraps his big gangly limbs around Louis and holds him tight. Louis lives in a state of being constantly overwhelmed by his love for Harry Tomlinson, and he wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

Especially when he’s stretched out on their bed, begging for Louis’ cock.

“Ready for me, love?” he checks, scooting into position and holding Harry’s knees lightly.

“Yeah, yes,” Harry rambles. His hands find Louis’ shoulders and grip tightly.

Louis holds his cock against Harry’s entrance and begins to press forward slowly. Harry’s body seems to pull him in, warm heat engulfing him straight away. Louis sucks in a breath at how good it feels.  He keeps inching in until he's fully inside and Harry is panting again, his cock stiff against Louis’ belly.

“You feel so fucking good,” Harry says, urging Louis closer with his hands on his shoulders. “C’mon, want you.”

Louis builds his rhythm slowly, thrusting in deep and pressing Harry back into the bed with his legs bent up against his chest. He keeps Harry right on the edge, teasing against his prostate but refusing to hit it, keeping his thrusts measured and controlled.

It makes Harry absolutely wild. He loves getting fucked, says it’s one of his favourite things in the entire world, and he loves getting fucked good and hard and fast. Louis is perfectly willing to do that most days, but other times he likes to tease Harry first. He likes to make Harry take it slow, make Harry really feel his cock deep inside him, thick and full. He likes to torture him with slow rolls of his hips, to kiss him so deep his head spins and keep him on the edge until he’s trembling.

“Please please please,” Harry gasps after long minutes of Louis fucking him torturously slowly. He’s writhing, trying to force his hips down to take Louis faster and harder.

“Please what?” Louis pushes in inch by inch and then just stays there, the head of his cock pressing teasingly against Harry’s prostate. He licks up Harry’s sweaty neck and bites his earlobe lightly.

“Please,” Harry repeats. “More, faster, please fuck me harder _please_.”

“I dunno,” Louis muses, pulling out again and suckling Harry’s earlobe as he fucks into him again. “M’kinda enjoying myself.”

Harry makes a high whining noise, his fingers scrabbling against Louis’ back as he begs and begs. Finally Louis gives him more, speeding up to thrust harder, harder while Harry gasps underneath him.

He’s teased for so long that Harry is teetering on the edge of orgasm quickly, moaning with each thrust with his head thrown back and his legs clamped tight around Louis’ hips.

He’s perfect, just the way Louis loves him most, so desperate for it that Louis can’t help but give it to him. He concentrates all his strength into his hips and thighs, fucking into Harry hard and fast. Harry muffles a moan into his own forearm, whimpers _yes yes yes that’s it please yes Louis._

“So beautiful,” Louis pants against his ear, keeping up the same unrelenting pace. “You’re perfect, you take my cock so well baby, do you love it? Do you love how it fills you up inside?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry’s voice is thick and gasping, like he’s forgotten how to breathe. Louis fucks in as hard as he can, knowing that Harry loves to feel completely overwhelmed by it.

“You’re gonna come for me, darling, gonna come good and hard on my cock because I’m fucking you just the way you like it, c’mon Haz, want you to be a good boy and come for me, that’s it.”

Harry comes, nearly sobbing and completely untouched. He moans and trembles through it, so beautiful that Louis has to slow his thrusts just to watch.

“Don’t - don’t stop,” Harry begs, absolutely wrecked with his cock still weakly dribbling come over his belly. “C’mon, want you to come.” He squeezes down on Louis’ cock and Louis sees goddamn stars.

“Baby,” is all he can say, weak as he starts thrusting again. He goes hard, knowing that Harry can take it, chases his own orgasm with desperate thrusts while Harry urges him on with whispered encouragements and sloppy kisses to Louis’ neck and face.

Harry’s so tight, clamping down on him so perfectly that Louis doesn’t take long to come. He settles in deep one more time and releases with a long groan, his face turned into Harry’s neck as he fills him.

 

 

Louis lays cradled against Harry’s warm chest for several long minutes. He can feel Harry’s fingers carding through his sweaty hair and it feels so nice that he can’t find a reason to move.

 Eventually though, they do move, because nobody knows better than them that going to sleep sticky and sweaty is a bad idea.  Louis moves sluggishly to clean them up and then cuddles up to Harry again once they're clean and dry. 

 

Tomorrow, Ryan will crawl into their bed at first light, snuggling into Harry's side and murmuring about the alien-centric nightmare he did end up having. Louis will fetch Talia when she awakes and she'll stay in bed with them, crawling all over the sheets and babbling happily. Alex will show up later, frowning because he's been left out, before joining his family. At some point Harry will bound downstairs with Ryan on his back to make breakfast, and Alex will help Talia get dressed. They'll spend another day on the beach, the saltwater making Harry and Talia's curls even wilder than usual. When the kids settle in front of a movie in the evening, Louis will duck out to take a couple of meetings with songwriters they know in the area. He'll come home to find Harry earnestly competing in Sing Star against the boys, with his hair in a tangle of brightly coloured braids and ribbons thanks to Talia and Ryan 'decorating' him. Louis will laugh, hug his babies and kiss his husband, and settle in for another night in his own personal paradise.

 

For now, though. For now, he's pleasantly exhausted and Harry's heartbeat is thudding softly against his ear, familiar and beloved. "Love you, love you, love you," Harry mumbles, voice slow and so deep as he wraps his arms around Louis' waist.

Louis smiles, so happy he feels like he's glowing from the inside out. "Love you more, and more, and more."

 


End file.
